


Contemplation

by Frigid



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Voidsent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frigid/pseuds/Frigid
Summary: Working late nights on Tataru's paperwork is bad enough without a voidsent complaining about it.





	Contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> Breaks existing canon a lot given that you know, Forgall dies in the Weeping City Raid.  
> Uhte is my Warrior of Light character, but her brother Khaz is my main character I use for stories and RP.

Khaz sighed and set aside yet another document. This was the one part of Scion work he hated, and he truly regretted offering to help Tataru catch up on her mounting pile of financial paperwork - which was in a dire state after Alphinaud had almost emptied the coffers. Uhte had nearly kicked him off Kugane’s pier.

“ _ Have you not yet given up?”  _ Khaz ignored Forgall, attempting to concentrate on tiny text in front of him. He might have to leave this one for Tataru, he understood very little about Kugane’s tax on foreign goods. Behind his eyes, the constant headache he’d had since starting the paperwork was growing.

“Perhaps you could help by getting rid of this headache?” Khaz felt, rather than heard Forgall snort. Gritting his teeth, he turned his attention back to the tax forms - ah, there was one for Limsan exports… of wine?. That he could do. Resolving to ignore Forgall’s constant disapproval, he started filling in the form. 

“ _ Why, exactly, do you insist on helping people who are quite capable of doing their tasks themselves? Especially since you stay up into late hours with no reward?” _ Khaz took a drink from his flask whilst considering how best to phrase his response. Forgall, whilst incredibly intelligent had the moral compass of wet leather, and flat out refused to do anything unless he benefited from it.

“There is a reward. For one thing, Tataru controls all the financial backing of the Scions. I know you think that mortal’s use of currency ridiculous, but it exists whether we like it or not. The Scions are not capable of doing what we do without Tataru pulling the purse strings, so to speak. If she were to fall behind or loose out on contracts from benefactors, we’d be stuck up ass creek without the paddle known as lube. She keeps everything ticking, and gets us extra bonuses. Rewards aren’t always instant or a physical thing. People remember what you do for them. Yes, some mortals are in it for themselves, but then we don’t make a habit of making deals with them anyway. Tataru appreciates what I do, she’s my friend. As for all the poor, destitute people I help on a daily basis. I do it because they may not be able to do it themselves. Think about when we visited Ishgard. Despite their reformation, those in the Brume still struggle to move on with their lives due to the upper class - old prejudices die hard. I, however, have the benefit of being the guy who helped kill Nidhogg, so I can pull strings. Honestly I don’t know how to explain that you should  _ care _ about other people”

_ “Friend. Hmmph. It is entertaining how you mortals rely on others fickle emotions.” _ Khaz wondered if Forgall was that bored he was deliberately being dense.

“I’m aware you have trust issues but then I think that’s more of a voidsent thing rather than personality. Were you always this insufferable?”

“ _ Voidsent thing?” _

“Loosely, I’m referring to how you all require pacts. And you all break them. Mortals are well aware that expecting voidsent to obey even the most tightly worded pact is a futile goal, so I’m asking if it’s in your nature to be assholes.”

“ _ I’m a voidsent. Our innate desire and thirst for aether controls everything we do in one way or another. If that results in broken pacts, then yes I suppose it is. _ ” Forgall’s voice was neutral, but Khaz could pick up the hint of disdain. Khaz wasn’t surprised that he would be annoyed at being held to something so simple. He shook his head, as if to clear it of Forgall’s negativity.

“Forgall... all voidsent, you included, use intelligence to justify your current actions.” It didn’t take much to realise that. Forgall’s ego, and indeed any intelligent voidsent’s, was insufferable. 

“You take your long life and accurate memory as part of your intelligence, and you switch between talking about your own mind as solid and immutable, to being a slave to aether. You’re the one who chose to take your existence at face value, rather than trying to help yourselves. You don’t want to accept that it’s your mind within your control. Maybe not so for the lesser voidsent, but for you?” Khaz was inwardly impressed at how level his voice was.

“You’re as intelligent as any of the scholars of this realm. You run rings around me in anything I do, but the idea of controlling yourself and helping yourself appears to be an alien concept to you.” Khaz could tell Forgall was growing increasingly irate.

“And, here you are, trapped in my body. I don’t doubt you’d be bored out of your mind helping me. My job sucks most of the time, and I feel like I go round in a circle and never progress anywhere, and it’s not until I look back, maybe years later, that I realise I wasn’t going into some circle, rather a spiral upwards and I think about how much I want to punch my past self. Some of us are ok working towards bettering ourselves and helping others, and some of us aren’t. It’s your choice.” 

Khaz felt tired. It was not like him to have an outburst like that, but Forgall could be truly aggravating. It was  _ tiring _ , having to listen to his deprecation. Although now, it felt like his presence had receded into the back of his mind somewhat, giving him a modicum of peace.

Looking down at the paperwork, Khaz found he had no motivation to carry on anymore. It was some hours past midnight, according to the chronometer on the desk. Blowing out the candle, he tidied the various papers and files away, resolving to finish them tomorrow for Tataru, and made his way through the Ruby Bazaar offices to the room Hancock had set aside for the Scions. Alphinaud, Alisaie and Tataru were already asleep, the soft sounds of snoring filling the room. Hancock had spared no expense on the beds. Incredibly soft and luxurious, it was not long before his exhaustion took over. In the moments before he fell asleep, he realised that his migraine had disappeared entirely. 

“Thank you”

_ Go to sleep. _


End file.
